The Horizontal Tango
by The Feisty Rogue
Summary: Arthur and Molly were often caught making the beast with two backs.


Minerva strode down the corridor, briskly performing her rounds. So far, the night had been quiet, and she hoped it stayed that way. She fancied having a small nightcap while reading the latest transfiguration journal, before she retired for bed.

A loud shriek did not bode well for her nightcap. Drawing her wand, Minerva headed toward the Charms classroom.

"Oh, Arthur!"

Minerva blinked, before wacking her palm with the tip of her wand. A loud crack boomed about the room, and her two unruly students fell apart from each other in horror.

Molly Prewitt hastily pulled down her robes, while Arthur Weasley turned away with red cheeks to do up his fly.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Prewitt, I expected better from the both of you," Minerva said.

"Yes Professor!"

"Sorry Professor!"

Minerva bit back a smile at their wide-eyed panic.

"Off to bed, the both of you," she said. "Come along. And they'll be separate beds, mind you."

She led the way back to Gryffindor common room. "Devil's Snare." The portrait swung open.

The two students scrambled through. "Detention, tomorrow night," she called, and allowed herself to smile once they were gone.

Filius owed her ten galleons.

* * *

Pomona hummed cheerily as she re-potted the squirming squills. They'd taken to hopping out and burying themselves with the dancing daisies, and that would not do at all. She rounded the corner, only to see two people performing the horizontal tango underneath the galapagous ferns.

"Ahem," she coughed, but unfortunately she was drowned out by an impressively loud moan.

"Mollywobbles!" the man cried. Pomona clasped a hand in front of her mouth in order to hold back a laugh.

"Ahem!" she tried again, slightly louder, but to no avail.

"Harder, Arthur, right there!"

"Excuse me!" Pomona shouted. The students froze.

"Merlin's balls," Arthur Weasley muttered. They quickly gathered themselves before standing, head's bowed.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," Pomona said. "And if I catch you in here again, it'll be a hundred."

Weasley looked up, a twinkle in his eye. "But that's only if you catch us, right?"

Pomona's jaw dropped, even as Prewitt smacked Weasley on the arm.

"Shut up," Prewitt hissed. "Yes, Professor, we're terribly sorry." They scarpered, and Pomona finally released the laugh had been building ever since the moment she'd seen them. Only if she caught them, indeed.

* * *

Poppy was not impressed to discover Molly Prewitt under the sheets with Arthur Weasley on one of her hospital beds.

"None of that," she snapped, pulling back the sheet to expose their nude bodies. "Now, you better stay abed Weasley, you shouldn't be doing any strenuous activity after that knock you took earlier."

"Sorry Madam Pomphrey," Prewitt said, not looking particularly sorry at all. She pulled on a robe, even as Weasley discretely tried to pull the sheet back up. Poppy rolled her eyes, and with a flick of her wand, dressed him in a pair of pyjama bottoms.

"What contraception are you using?" Poppy asked, bustling into the back room. Neither of them answered. "Well? Condoms? Potion? Both?"

Weasley looked absurdly panicked, which ruled out condoms. "Contraception?" he asked weakly, going paler than when he'd first been brought in with a broken leg.

"The potion," Prewitt said. "I take it every day."

Poppy huffed. "And I suppose you're brewing it yourself. It's not the most reliable, you know." She shoved a handful of condoms and a month's supply of potion into Prewitt's hands.

"Come back when you run out," she instructed, and shooed her out.

Weasley looked as if he wished the bed would swallow him whole. Poppy crossed her arms, and glared at him. "Do you have any idea how to look after a child?"

He gulped, and shook his head.

"Well then, next time think twice before having intercourse, else you'll end up with seven children before you're thirty."

"Yes, Madam Pomphrey," he croaked.

Poppy turned away, and smirked. That would teach them, she hoped.

* * *

"Potion?"

"Taken."

"Condoms?"

"I've got them, if we must."

"… perhaps we shouldn't."

"Arthur, if you don't get in me right now, I'll go find someone else!"

"Yes, darling."

"That's it, oh, yes."

"Mollywobbles!"

"Arthur!"


End file.
